Not Him, Please?
by UglyGreenJacket
Summary: Life's pretty hard when you've been in love with your best friend for six years. Even harder when you hear one of HER best friends talking about how the guy you're insanely jealous of is about to make his move...UsaMamo AU. Lots of sexy, jealous, pining fluff, ahead!
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Hello, dears! Yes, it's me...AGAIN. Don't adjust your screens. This is another story I've started, but I have a special reason for this one, and it's actually been written for DAYS, but someone wouldn't let me post it a minute before, now._

 _So, I know you all know by now about the totes adorbs friendship I share with my beta FloraOne, and today just happppppens to be her birthday! Well, for those of us in the US and western parts of Europe, it's not_ quite _her birthday yet, but it is in Germany, so it counts!_

 _We decided some months ago to gift each other fics for our birthdays, and hers just happened to fall right in the middle of other fics of mine being written, so, I had to stop everything, and do this, because honestly, she's the reason I'm here at all, anyway 3333 You can look forward to her birthday fic that she's writing for me coming up in March!_

 _If haven't found the both of us over on tumblr, yet, we'd be delighted to have you! Flora's blog is a gorgeous mix of everything she loves, but a lot of SM stuff, and mine is all SM, all the time. You can find both of us under these names on tumblr, as well._

 _So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this silly little diddy, and please let me know what you think!_

 _PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FLORAONE! You have no idea how grateful I am that you were born._

 _PPS This is definitely rated M. Like right off the bat, smut fest, so, you've been warned._

 _PPPS I haven't said this in awhile, BUT yeah, Sailor Moon still belongs to Naoko….dammit._

Prompt: UsaMamo BFF birthday party fic with a non-asshole Seiya thrown in for good measure.

 _oOo_

"Mako-chan, guess what?!" the bubbly, blonde Minako gushed to her friend, while Mamoru's muscles tensed, sensing exactly where this conversation was headed.

The three were seated in a small cafe that was one of Makoto's favorites, and since the girl was practically a master chef at the age of twenty, he knew the food would be wonderful, even if Minako's company wasn't.

"Minako, is it impossible for you to go an hour without descending into salacious gossip? We're supposed to be planning Usako's party, in case you'd forgotten," he bit out, unsuccessfully hiding his annoyance.

She turned to him, a look on her face that would cause many a male or female to wither away, and he counted himself lucky that he was not among those numbers.

"Could you be anymore of a killjoy, Mamoru?" she quipped back, complete with dramatic eye roll, as they glared at each other, while Makoto cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Uh, Mina, you know Mamoru is really busy, so maybe we should talk about whatever this is later-?"

"Absolutely not! This involves Usagi, and since Mamoru is her 'best friend," she emphasized her disdain for the title with air quotes, "he needs to hear this too."

"And what do you mean by that?" he growled out, and he felt Makoto flinch beside him, her hand reaching out to steady him. Minako knew damn well what he was to Usagi.

"Mina, just go ahead and spit it out, would you? And stop purposefully goading Mamoru," Makoto pleaded, trying her best to keep the peace.

Minako stuck her tongue out at Mamoru, before the excitement of her news lit up her face, once more.

"So, I heard that THE Seiya Kou is finally going to make his move at Usagi's party!" Minako squealed out, clapping her hands happily, her outburst so loud, several tables near them turned their heads in obvious annoyance.

Mamoru felt his heart pound against his chest at Minako's news, and his fingers stilled on the keyboard of his laptop, where, until just now, he'd been contacting vendors for Usagi's party. The blood drained from his face, and his breathing nearly stopped as a loud ringing sound in his ears kept him from hearing much of the remaining conversation.

Usagi and _Seiya?_

He'd known that Usagi had made fast friends with the pop singer when he joined her class in high school, but the few times Mamoru had seen them together, there was obviously nothing romantic going on. At least he thought…

It wasn't as if Usagi spent all her time talking about him. She occasionally mentioned Seiya in passing, but it was nothing more than a simple line in a conversation.

And he of all people would know, after all.

Mamoru had known Usagi for nearly six years, having met her while she was still in middle school and he was two years ahead in high school. She'd desperately needed a tutor for, well, everything school related. They'd had a bit of a rocky start, him teasing her about her hair, and she insulting his personality at every turn.

Until, one day, the nosy teen had followed him to the cemetery, where she'd found him leaving flowers on the graves of his parents. She simply came to stand next to him, taking his hand in her own, and allowing him the time he needed.

He'd told her everything that day. How he had no memory of these people who had died. How he'd lived a lonely, loveless existence. How he'd turned to academia to fill the void.

And she'd squeezed his arm in response, listening intently while he spilled his secrets to her and the dead around them, her eyes never judging, never pity filled.

It had been that moment when he looked down at her, arms clutched tightly around his, and brilliant, blue eyes staring understandingly back at him, that he'd realized how desperately in love with Usagi he was, and had been since practically the beginning.

She had filled that loneliness in him. Had made him _feel_ , again. And it nearly overwhelmed him.

But he wouldn't, couldn't tell her this.

Other than the adorable nicknames they'd bestowed upon each other, the rabbit gave him no indication that she felt anything remotely romantic for him. And when she started including him in nearly all of her activities, dragging him to every silly festival and movie night alike, his feelings only grew along with his resolve to not disclose his feelings.

There was no way he was going to mess up the most precious thing he had.

And so, six years later, here he was, planning her twentieth birthday party with their mutual friends, who were discussing another guy's plans to make a move on his sweet Usako.

"I don't know, Mina. Usagi's never really mentioned anything about having those kind of feelings for Seiya." Makoto's voice filtered through Mamoru's panicked state, as his eyes finally focused on the brunette, delicately folding decorations for Usagi's party.

"What do you mean?!" Minako protested, expertly continuing to accomplish nothing. "She's been head over feels for the guy since he walked into class four years ago!"

Makoto shook her head, laughing a little. "You know Usagi. She has stars in her eyes for any cute guy she sees, especially a celebrity like Seiya, but that doesn't mean she wants to bone them."

"Makoto!" Mamoru gasped, scandalized.

She looked at him a little sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders and mumbling, "Sorry."

The grin that lit Minako's face at the exchange unnerved him to the core. Placing her elbows on the table, and propping her head up on her hands, she winked at him.

"What's the matter, _Maaaaamoruuu_?" she drawled out like a five year old on the playground. "Don't like to think of anyone sexing up your precious Usako?"

His cheeks stained bright red. "Wh-what? No! You know it's not...It's not like that!"

She winked at him, once more, while Makoto sighed deeply, shaking her head. "Oh, _suuuuure_ it's not."

Mamoru shut his laptop, reaching for his bag that lay under the table, and haphazardly throwing the computer inside it.

When he spoke, he could still feel the blush on his cheeks. "As fun as this has been, Usako's coming over this afternoon, and I need to get home."

Without another word, he walked away from the table trying his best to block out the childish kissing sounds Minako was making in his wake.

 _oOo_

"Hey, Mamo-chan?" Usagi asked, sitting up slightly, and lifting her head from its previous spot in Mamoru's lap.

"Hmm?" Mamoru answered, his eyes snapping open at the sound of her voice, having nearly fallen asleep on his couch, as they watched some ridiculous romantic comedy, because Usagi had practically begged for them to spend the afternoon that way. And who was he to deny her such a simple request?

"Have you ever thought about having sex with me?" she asked, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

He was certainly awake now.

"U-usa?" he stuttered out, moving as far away from her as possible, on the tiny, confined space of the couch.

"Have you ever thought about having sex with me?" Usagi repeated, her expression never changing.

"W-what...why…" he began, stopping to take a deep breath in order to steady himself, and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Why would I think about that?"

"Well, it just makes sense doesn't it?"

"Uh, well, I-"

"I mean, we've known each other for years, now," she reasoned, moving closer to him, and reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair from his eyes.

Mamoru's eyes grew wide at her touch, his breathing quickened at her proximity, and his body began to react to her, as it had done so many times before.

"You're my best friend, Mamo-chan," Usagi went on, "have you never...thought about me that way?" she asked, moving even closer to straddle his lap boldly, pressing him into the back of the couch, as he bent his head back to look up at her.

"I, uh, I-"

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered next to his ear, and all he could do was nod, as his attraction to her grew to the point where it was unmistakable.

"I've thought about you like this…" she nipped at his ear lobe, and ground her hips against him, "...for so long."

Mamoru grit his teeth from the sensations she was sending through him, his hands balled into fists at his side, as he strained to keep himself from touching her. "But Usa…" she moved, again, and a hiss of air left him. "I thought...you liked that pop singer," he managed to get out, completely blanking on the name of that ridiculous guy Usagi was supposedly into.

Usagi paused her movements, placing her forehead against his her brow wrinkling in confusion. "Huh? Who?...Seiya?"

He nodded, eyes transfixed on hers.

"He's alright," she said quietly, a knowing smile on her face, as she leaned down, her lips barely brushing his as she spoke. "But he's no you."

He felt himself flush at her words, his arousal growing by the second, beginning to become almost painful as it strained against the confines of his pants.

Usagi reached down without breaking eye contact with him, taking his hands gently into hers, and placing them on her hips just under the hemline of her skirt.

Mamoru had to close his eyes to bite back a moan at the feel of the smooth skin of her stomach beneath his hands, and when he could finally compose himself enough to look back into her eyes, he was startled to find them gone, as Usagi leaned down and placed a searing kiss to his neck.

And he did moan then, feeling her gently suck the skin where he was certain she could feel his pulse beating wildly, all while she continued the distracting movement of her hips.

His head fell back, as her tongue darted out, licking down to his collarbone, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

"Have you ever thought of me like this, Mamo-chan?" she whispered between kisses to the skin just above the top of his shirt.

"Yes," he groaned out finally, digging his fingers into the skin of her hips, still afraid to move them, in case it wasn't wanted.

Mamoru felt Usagi's hands move to the buttons of his shirt, her fingers steady and sure, as she started to undo them. And her eyes came back to his, the most gorgeous and captivating color of blue he'd ever seen.

"Do you want me like this, Mamo-chan?" she asked, as she trailed a finger down his chest, stopping just above the belt buckle that separated his skin from hers.

"Usako…"

Her fingers were now dipping just slightly into the waistband of his pants. "Do you, Mamo-chan?"

It was all too much.

"God, yes, Usako."

A giggle escaped her at the desperate tone in his voice, while she began kissing down his chest, her fingers slowly unbuckling his belt. And after she had unzipped him, she looked up at him with the most adorable pout, as if she were disappointed she couldn't go any further.

So, he lifted his hips, and pushed down the tight jeans he wore, eyes never leaving hers, answering her smile with a nervous one of his own.

Before Mamoru could even begin to process what was about to happen next, Usagi had reached into his boxers, freeing his cock from the confining fabric.

He let out a strangled sound when he felt her hands on him, and he began to desperately clutch at the fabric of the couch with his hands, trying to resist the urge to touch her, run his hands through her hair…

Usagi gently moved her thumb in a circle around the tip of him, spreading out the drop of moisture that was found there, and the mischievous look she gave him made his heart stop beating for the briefest of moments.

What happened next was something he had tried for six years to keep from entering his mind. Usagi was his best friend, after all, and his attraction to her and for her couldn't come between them. But even though he tried to squelch the love he held for her, there were times his hormones could overtake him, especially in his dreams.

If he hadn't known any better, Mamoru would have sworn this was, in fact, a dream, but Usagi had never felt so real, so alive, so _his_.

And when he saw her tongue leave her mouth to touch and lick his hardened, aching flesh, her eyes never leaving his as she slowly made her way to the tip, Mamoru knew he would never manage to last even a minute with the feelings coursing through him.

"Usa," he groaned out, hands moving to her face to gently pull her off of him.

She looked confused at his action, and he groaned out, "I just need…" hands traveling from her face, to skim the top of of her shirt, that lay just above her breasts, while she moved back to straddle him, emboldened by his touch, "...just need to feel you."

Mamoru did then, what he had longed to do since the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Usagi. He kissed her, meeting her halfway between them, and as he felt the softness of her lips moving with his, he was lost.

He took a few moments to simply feel, enjoying the softness of her skin, and the luscious silk of her hair as it moved through his fingers. He could have stayed like this with her for forever, but the one in his arms had other plans.

She began to move hips back and forth, rubbing soft and damp fabric against his arousal.

Mamoru dug shaking hands into her hips, his breath coming out in a hiss of pleasure, and he knew it was time to give as good as he was getting. He had to make this last, make it count.

Bringing Usagi's face down to his, again, he slid his hands down to the exposed skin of her thighs, as her mini-skirt had ridden up to a level that left nothing to the imagination, and he enjoyed the moan she let out into their kiss, taking full advantage of her open mouth, sliding his tongue in to dance with hers.

And she continued her movements against him, back and forth, over and over, causing him to break their kiss in order to catch his breath and bite his tongue to keep from losing complete control.

Moving his hands from her thighs, Mamoru dipped one, long finger into the fabric of her underwear, smirking when he found slick heat waiting for him, causing Usagi to gasp at the contact.

Running a finger, up the length of her folds, he withdrew just before reaching her clit, causing her to whimper in frustration. He felt emboldened by knowing his touch could do such things to her.

"Do you want something, Usako?" he whispered, after repeating the same movement half a dozen times, until she was practically writhing with need.

She opened her mouth to reply, but the only sound that came out was a lust filled moan, as Mamoru brought his finger back, and began to rub slow circles on her clit.

"Please, Mamo-chan...I need…" she stuttered out, while her hips began to move against his finger, seeking more friction and pleasure.

He leaned up to place searing kisses against her neck. "What is it, Usa?"

"I-in my bag. Condoms," she breathed out, and he couldn't help the satisfaction that coursed through him at her lack of speech.

"No need," he whispered, reaching into his back pocket, and producing his wallet, with a shiny, silver package inside.

Usagi scrambled off of him with a giggle, standing up to rid herself of the fabric that kept getting in the way of his touch, watching Mamoru with hooded eyes, as he spread the condom onto himself.

And before he could blink, Usagi was back, straddling him just as she was before. She lowered her forehead to touch his, and looking into his eyes, she breathed, "Do this often?"

Mamoru's eyes grew wide at her question, but he shook his head. "No. It's only you, Usako. It'll only ever be _you_."

At his confession, Usagi lowered herself onto him, causing them both to throw their heads back at the sensation.

He had to dig his hands into her hips to still her movements, while he breathed long, deep breaths to steady himself, release dangerously close on the horizon.

When his breathing had calmed somewhat after a few, long moments, Mamoru could finally meet Usagi's eyes.

She smiled at him, reaching her hand up to stroke his cheek. "Ready?"

He had barely had time to nod before she was moving, again, her hands clutching the back of the couch behind his head, as she rode him in the most exquisite way possible.

She started off slowly, drawing low and long moans from both of them, but when she found a way to swirl her hips so that her clit rubbed against him, it didn't take long before her pace became frenzied.

Mamoru reached down between them, his thumb finding her sweet spot quickly, as her movements became faster, and shorter still, and he began to thrust up into her, his hips leaving the couch, meeting her insatiable need with his own.

And he felt her start to come around him, her eyes rolling back, as she stilled her movements, clutching at his chest for want of something to bring stability to her spinning world.

He held her to him, while he continued to thrust as deeply into her as he could, knowing that with just a few more strokes, he'd join her in that oh so addicting plunge into ecstasy.

"Mamo-chan?"

His eyes flew up to hers, as he slowed his movements temporarily at the sound of her voice.

"Mamo-chan, are you awake?" Usagi moved out of his embrace, leaning back to look at him and using his arms to hold her balance, a quizzical expression on her face.

He let out a bark of a laugh at the absurdity of her question. "God, yes, I'm awake."

"You look kinda funny. Are you having a nightmare?" she asked with concern.

Mamoru raised an eyebrow at her, stopping his thrusting altogether. "What?"

"Your eyes are closed!" she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"No, they're not! See?" He closed his eyes, and opened them wide to prove to the silly girl that he was, in fact, awake, because he _needed_ to come, and it was just _right there..._

But when his eyes opened, again, a very different sight than the one he'd left greeted him.

He was in his bed, a fully dressed, non post-sex Usagi was standing over him.

"Mamo-chan, you're really flushed." She leaned down, and placed her hand to his forehead. "And sweaty." Her nose wrinkled up at her latest revelation.

He was frozen in place, grateful for the thick covers on his bed that hid just exactly why he was flushed and sweaty. "U-usako, what are you doing here?!"

Usagi frowned at him. "You forgot about our shopping trip, didn't you?" she pouted.

 _Oh. That._

"Shit," he mumbled, scrambling from the bed with a blanket in tow, as he ran towards the bathroom, leaving a bewildered Usagi in his wake.

"Sorry, Usako, just give me a few minutes!" he called out, turning the cold shower water on full blast, while he began thinking of hurricanes, plane crashes, and just about anything else besides the blonde on the other side of the door.

 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Hiiiiii, thereeee. Yeah. I know. It's been more than a month since I managed to update this thing. 34 days to be exact! And I'm so, very, very sorry._

 _I've struggled to make this story everything that I hoped FloraOne would want, and because of that she's had to put up with my constant bitching and moaning about it for the past month. She's a trooper of the most AMAZING kind, and I honestly have no idea why she chose me to write this for her, but alas, here we are xD So, thank you Flora, for all the things 333_

 _Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for your response to the first chapter! I promise the conclusion won't take another month...at least I hope. ;)_

 _oOo_

Mamoru couldn't help but smile at Usagi's sigh of relief, as a blast of cold air conditioning hit them in the face when they entered the store.

This particular boutique was one of Usagi's favorites, located amongst the zelkova tree lined boulevard of Omotesando. And it was here, that the two somehow always ended up at, every year when Mamoru took Usagi out for her birthday shopping trip.

It had become somewhat of a tradition for them, ever since her fifteenth birthday, when Mamoru had insisted on taking her wherever she wanted to go, so he could buy her an outfit for her birthday.

He'd never forget the look on her face that first time, when he'd taken her into that designer's store, and told her she could pick out whatever she wanted. If he hadn't already been in love with her, he certainly would have fallen hard, then, as she stared up at him with her bright blue eyes filled with awe and gratitude and the most precious blush staining her cheeks. His wallet had been empty for quite some time afterwards, but the few weeks of instant ramen had been infinitely worth it.

She boldly wore that very outfit, today, that he'd bought for her that very first birthday, and it made his heart swell far more than it should to see her dressed in that bright pink, off the shoulder shirt, red tank top and a black mini skirt she'd picked out all those years ago.

Of course, she filled it out much more nicely, now, than she did then, he'd thought with a smirk, before mentally slapping himself for having such thoughts about his beloved Usagi.

"Mamo-chan, what do you think of this?" Usagi asked, holding up a breezy, summer dress.

It took Mamoru a few moments to process what she was saying to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Usagi huffed and pouted in that ridiculous way that always seemed to make him go weak at the knees and turn his insides to goo. "Are you paying any attention to me?"

He blushed, and nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Of course, Usa. Sorry, the heat must be getting to me."

"So, what do you think of this?" she asked him, again, still holding up the dress from before.

Mamoru cocked his head to the side, and looked at her choice. "I like it, but wouldn't you rather have something a bit dressier?" he said, trying to steer her towards a choice more fitting for her party the next day. "You know, for a party or date or something," he rushed out, and she looked at him with amusement.

"A date, huh?" she countered, a silly grin on her face. "Are you asking me _out_ or something?"

Dark blue eyes widened in embarrassed horror. "W-what? No! No, of course not!"

Mamoru noticed something intense flash in her eyes at his response, but it was gone the instant it appeared, and she winked at him in apparent jest. "Easy, Mamo-chan. I'm just giving you a hard time."

She turned her back to him and placed the dress back with the rest. "So, something dressier, then?" she said with her back still turned, and a nearly imperceptible break in her voice.

He looked around the store, and spotted the section with cocktail dresses in every hue one could imagine. "Let's look over there," he said beginning to move towards the back section by the dressing rooms.

For the next half hour, Mamoru watched Usagi comb carefully through each rack of clothes, all while she chattered away to him about everything from her university studies, (she was studying social work at Tokyo's University of Social Welfare), to how proud she was of how well her brother, Shingo, was doing in his high school studies.

And Mamoru listened intently, eyes never straying from her while she talked, enjoying how her nose would crinkle when she saw a dress she had a certain distaste for, and her eyes lighting up when she saw something she liked.

He found his arms full of possible dress choices, and when Usagi finally decided she had enough to try on, Mamoru sighed in relief, as the heavy fabrics had begun to make his arms ache from holding them.

She disappeared into the small dressing room, and Mamoru all but collapsed on the plush couch that sat just outside the door Usagi had closed. He rested his arm on the arm of the sofa, and propped his head in his hand, shutting his eyes blearily.

Being in his third year of medical school took its toll on him, and though he'd gotten used to the late nights and little sleep, times like these, where he actually got to stop and be still, tended to end with his eyes drooping dangerously.

But Usagi made sure he never completely drifted off into dreamland, since every few minutes she'd emerge from the dressing room in a new dress that she'd dramatically model for him, twirling this way and that, and letting him know everything she liked and disliked about each ensemble.

Mamoru managed to keep his mind in innocent places while Usagi stood before him in a number of stunning dresses, but of course, the fates often had other plans than the straight-laced medical student did, and there were times when he could have sworn that they were all out to get him.

"Hey, Mamo-chan, the zipper of this one is kinda tricky, could you help me with it?" Usagi asked, peeking her head out of the stall door.

He jumped to his feet, an eagerness born of wanting to help and simply to see her driving his quick movements, and when he stepped into the small room with her, every vivid piece of his dream from earlier came rushing back.

Usagi was dressed in an adorable, black cocktail dress, that Mamoru was certain had been the inspiration for the phrase, "little black dress." It fit her like a glove, accentuating her tiny waist, and flaring out at her hips in a mini-skirt that left nothing to the imagination about how long and stunning her legs were, and he couldn't help but think about how easy it would be for her to straddle him in it, lowering herself over him, just like she had before in his dream...

But nothing could have prepared him for the sight that would greet him when she turned her back to him, that beyond precious pout on her face.

"It's down at the base of my back, and but I can't seem to hold it just right to zip it up," she said, showing him the back of the dress, which left the entirety of her creamy, smooth back exposed.

His breath caught at the sight of her, and he found himself frozen, his feet rooted to the spot on the floor, mouth running totally dry.

"Mamo-chan?" she asked when he didn't move after a few moments, turning her head to the side to look at him.

Mamoru shook his head, mumbling, 'sorry,' and he moved towards her, his hands reaching out with trembling fingers to latch onto the tiny zipper. It glided up its track with ease when he pulled on it, and he couldn't help but let the tips of his fingers trail against the softness of her skin for the briefest of moments.

"There you go, Usa," he whispered, afraid his voice might break the spell he'd fallen into.

She whirled around, a brilliant smile on her face. "Oh, thank goodness, it fits!" she said, running over to the mirror to examine herself. "I think this might be the one, Mamo-chan."

He swallowed nervously, his breathing quickening at the thought of her wearing _that_ dress, looking every kind of sexy, at her birthday party in front of _Seiya._

"A-are you…sure you want that one?" he asked, and when she eyed him strangely, the first excuse he could think of flew out of his mouth. "You might get cold! Or something…" he said, blanching at the lameness of the answer he'd provided.

Usagi placed her hands on her hips, causing the dress' skirt to flare out even more, and Mamoru could feel his mind starting to scream at him. "Cold?! Mamo-chan, it's like a billion degrees outside!"

"Uh...well, it can get cold at night you know-"

"You don't like it do you?" her face fell in a way that made his heart twist painfully.

"What?! No, Usako, of course I _like_ it-"

Her eyes flashed a hard determination, and her lips set in a thin line. "Well, this is the one I want."

Mamoru sighed and ran a hand through his thick, black hair. "That's fine, Usako," he conceded, quickly realized there was no possible way he was going to win this battle.

She smiled at him, the light not totally reaching her eyes, as she began to push him out of the room with her tiny hands, so she could change back into her normal clothes, leaving Mamoru to devise a plan to keep his jacket firmly on Usagi's shoulders during her party, and her endless, creamy back away from the prying eyes of one Kou Seiya.

 _oOo_

There simply wasn't enough alcohol in the world for this. And he would know, since Mamoru was fairly certain he'd downed half a bottle of tequila since they'd arrived at the karaoke room, and Minako was currently refilling his shot glass with more of the clear, foul smelling liquid with a wicked grin on her face.

He was a brooding, moody mess, and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He also knew that the alcohol that was currently stinging and singeing his throat as it went down slippery smooth wasn't helping the situation.

But it wasn't as if the presence of his annoying, ponytailed nemesis was doing anything to help him, either. Seiya had been the first person to scoop Usagi into a hug when they'd all jumped out and yelled the big, "Surprise!" and it seemed as if she had been plastered to his side ever since, laughing at his jokes (he wasn't nearly as funny as he thought he was) and blushing brightly anytime the singer would lean over and whisper something in her ear (did he _really_ have to touch her back every time he talked to her?).

Perhaps worst of all, was that Mamoru couldn't _truly_ hate the guy. He was nice. Decent even. And he made Usagi laugh and smile more than he had seen in quite some time. She was completely carefree around Seiya. Mamoru knew her well enough to see it, and they looked so natural together that it made his stomach churn in dangerous ways.

All that coupled with the constant noise and boom of the music had Mamoru more on edge than he could ever recall being. And he was fairly used to being on edge.

"Are you ok?" a familiar voice asked, and Mamoru turned his head, and willed his eyes to focus on Motoki, seated next to him on the long couch.

"Fucking dandy," he bit out, reaching once again for the small glass filled to the brim with alcohol.

Motoki eyed him with a nervous concern. "Do you think you should slow down on those shots?"

Mamoru slammed the shot glass down on the table with a loud clank. "Are you implying that I can't hold my alcohol?" he asked the blonde next to him with a glare.

"Oh, I _know_ you can't," Motoki answered with a roll of his eyes. "Do you have any idea how many times I had to drag your ass home during our undergrad years, because you were so wasted?"

Mamoru leaned back against the couch, and crossed his arms. "Well, at least I know you're good at it."

Motoki sighed, and placed a small slap to the back of Mamoru's head. "You know, you could've saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd just told her you loved her six years ago."

Mamoru's eyes narrowed, and his back straightened. "Why don't you say that a little louder, Motoki. I don't think they heard you in Osaka, yet," he seethed.

Motoki smirked back at him, and clapped him on the back. "You know I'm just trying to help you. And I don't want it to wind up being too late, which I'm worried it might be," he said, nodding his head towards Usagi jumping up to hug Seiya after he'd serenaded her with yet another song.

"Goddamn professional singers, and their stupid goddamn songs," he growled, rising to his feet before his brain could register what he was doing.

He began to crawl over the numerous people in the booth with him. First Minako, then Rei (who he grabbed the song list book from), one of Seiya's brothers he wasn't sure the name of, but his attitude certainly was sassy, and then finally Usagi.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi squeaked in surprise, as he inched by her, the distinct smell of her perfume overwhelming his dulled senses.

He leaned down towards her ear. "Hi, Usako. You smell so _pretty,_ " he said loudly, causing her to jump a bit.

When he straightened back up, Mamoru turned towards Seiya, leveling him with the glare to end all glares, and unceremoniously snatched the mic away from the startled singer.

He flipped through the songbook madly, until a title he recognized finally caught his eye. He pumped his fist in the air, loudly exclaiming, "Yes! This is perfect."

Moving towards the computer, he stumbled a bit on one of the various cords lying on the ground, but managed to stay upright, as he punched in the number of the song with some difficulty.

And as the obnoxious karaoke sounds began to play, Mamoru looked directly at Usagi, and said in a deep voice that didn't quite sound like his own, "This is for you, my lovely Usako." He heard Makoto whoop loudly, saw Rei shake her head with a frown, and Ami bury her head in her hands.

But Usagi's reaction was the only one he cared about. Mamoru watched as her eyes went wide, and he wasn't quite sure if it was because of his words, or because she realized what song he'd picked out. It was some silly little pop song from the nineties that was popular in the states called _She's So High_.

Usagi had made him listen to it over and over when she'd discovered it, she adored it, and it had stuck with him, because it had reminded him so very much of his relationship with her.

He'd told her once, in a particularly intimate moment, when he'd put the song on to cheer her up after she'd run to him crying because of another scolding from her parents about her grades, that he felt like the song was written for them. That she was so high above him, in practically every way, and he hoped, one day, that he could somehow be worthy of being in her life.

It had gotten him the bright smile he was after, and a playful slap on the arm. "Oh, Mamo-chan, don't be ridiculous," she'd said to him, not understanding how the words he'd spoken had been the truest he'd said in a long time.

But that bright smile was nowhere to be seen, now. Instead, a room full of shocked faces and a snickering Minako stared back at him as he compared Usagi to the likes of Cleopatra and Aphrodite while he sang.

Mamoru had never really considered himself a singer, he knew he could carry a tune, but either the alcohol was clouding his brain, or he was doing an amazing job. Like, _really_ amazing, and the surprise (and was that a little bit of awe?) on Seiya's face only fueled him further.

For the most part, though, he kept his eyes locked solely on Usagi. Her mouth was parted in the most adorable little 'o' shape, and a bright pink blush stained her cheeks. But for as well as he knew her, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what was running through her mind in that moment.

And the longer he sang, the less sure he became of what Usagi was feeling. The logical part of him was yelling at him to _stop, stop this now_ , but it was far too easily quieted by the tequila flowing through his veins, and when he was finished with the last chorus of, "she's so high above me," and holding his last note out a little longer than was necessary, Mamoru knew what he had to do next.

He dramatically dropped the microphone he was holding, remembering in a flash of brilliance that that was something cool to do, and he walked over to Usagi, practically sitting on Seiya, causing the bewildered star to jump up with a, "hey!"

But Mamoru was past caring what the stupid, ponytailed Don Juan thought of him. He had something to say. Something he'd been holding in for years.

" _Usako,_ " he drawled out, crushing her to him in the tightest hug he could muster.

Mamoru moved her back slightly with his hands on her shoulders. "Usako, there's something I need to tell you."

Usagi's eyes darted around the room, as if looking for someone to rescue her, but the rest of the party was as frozen as she was. "Mamo-chan, can't we do this somewhere more private-"

"No!" he cried, much more harshly than he'd intended. He shook his head and went on. "No, no, no, Usa, it has to be _now._ "

Mamoru started to panic, when her eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. "Usako! Please, don't cry. It's nothing bad, I swear," he cajoled, cupping her face and brushing his thumbs across her cheeks. "Well, at least I don't _think_ it is, but I'm not exactly thinking very clearly, so my judgement might be a little off-"

It was at that moment that he felt another presence next to him. "Chiba, maybe you should leave Usagi alone, now."

 _Seiya_.

Mamoru stood up, whirling around, his hands clenched at his sides. "Maybe _you_ should leave her alone!"

Seiya backed away a few steps, as Mamoru's full height towered over him. "Hey, man, I'm not trying to start anything here, she just looked uncomfortable-"

"Your stupid ponytail makes _me_ uncomfortable!" he shouted, getting ready to lay into the shorter man with more insults when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Mamoru, I think we should go, now," Motoki said gently, trying to lead his best friend towards the door.

"No, Motoki," he growled out with a conviction he hadn't known he possessed.

Motoki sighed, and again started to lead him towards the door. "Mamoru, we're leaving," his voice was stern. " _Now._ "

"But I have to tell Usako I _love_ her!" Mamoru yelled, and whipped his head back around at the gasps he heard.

The room fell completely silent, and Usagi stood to her feet, one tiny hand clutched against her chest as if to protect herself from a flood of emotions. Her eyes were dark and hurt, and the tears had finally spilled over.

"I think you just did," Mamoru heard Motoki mutter behind him.

Mamoru's brain began to feel lucid again at the sight of her, fear and nausea bringing sober thoughts back to his mind. "Usako-"

"Come on, Mamoru. Let's get you home."

He didn't fight this time, the knowledge of what he had done had finally caught up with him, and the need to run and hide became almost unbearable. Chancing one, last look back at Usagi's stricken face, a startling realization made it feel like his heart was shattering.

He had ruined everything.

 _To be continued..._

 _BTW the song Mamoru chooses is by Tal Bachman. It's pretty ok as songs go, I guess..._

 _Annnddd, the idea that Usagi is going to school for social work is stolen from FloraOne's AMAZING fic 11 Hours. You should check it out, if you haven't already!_


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Here it is! The final chapter of this crazy little story._

 _This was written for my dear friend FloraOne in celebration of her birthday (almost two months ago xD) and I'm SO happy that it's finally finished for her! She tells me she loves it, so I'm going to trust her on that, but I can't thank her enough for her unending patience with me and this story. I was such a BRAT about it, but she is the best encourager and beta anyone could ask for. I hope this was worth the wait, love, and here's to many, many more birthdays of writing fic for each other!_

 _Please let me know what you think, and enjoy!_

 _oOo_

Mamoru awoke on the morning on July 1st to the loud sound of banging. He groaned and rolled over, placing a pillow over his head in an attempt to shut out the noise, but nothing seemed to deaden the sound or the throbbing in his head.

It took him about a minute to realize that not only was the banging not ceasing, but that it sounded suspiciously like it was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Cursing to himself, he stumbled from the bed clutching his head in his hand, while he walked on unsteady legs towards the door, the banging becoming more insistent with every step he took. And by the time he reached his hand out to turn the doorknob, anger was beginning to surge through him.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck do you-" he yelled too loudly, as he swung the door open, revealing a very angry looking Usagi.

"Usako!" he jumped in surprise at the sight of her, and she pushed past him into the apartment, hastily removing her dainty ballet flats.

He watched her with wide and bleary eyes when she bent down and picked up her shoes in one, fluid movement, and before he could react, the tiny slip-ons were flying towards his face, one hitting him squarely in the nose, and the other whizzing past his left temple.

"Hey!" he cried out, rubbing the bridge of his nose in pain. "What the hell was that for?"

Usagi let out a huff of air, and placed her hands on her hips in a defiant stance. "You _ruined_ my birthday, Mamoru-baka."

Mamoru winced at the sound of the name she hadn't called him since she was in junior high, spotty and blurry images from the night before flitting across his mind.

He could remember arriving at the karaoke place, Minako continually refilling his shot glass with some foul tasting liquor, and…

"Wait, did I _sing_ something?" he asked, moving his fingers from the pain in his nose to run through his hair.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to ask. "That's what you remember?!" she practically screamed at him, causing his head to pound with an intensity not unlike what she'd been previously doing to his door.

"Usako, please-"

"No," she said resolutely, and with a coldness that frightened him. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

A crippling fear overtook him, and Mamoru found himself leaning against the wall for support. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall what exactly had made him suddenly so disgusting in her eyes, but nothing solid would come to him.

"Usa, what...what happened at your party?" he asked quietly, managing to reach his arm out towards her, but she stepped back further away from him.

Tears had sprung up in her eyes, and he had to bite back the urge to hug her like he normally would, reminding himself over and over that she obviously wasn't in want of his comfort at the moment.

"I knew you could be mean, Mamoru, but I _never_ imagined you could be so impossibly cruel," she whispered, her small hands clenching into balls at her sides.

Her words slammed into him with a force that made it hard to breathe, and his vision blurred out of focus while his mind raced for a way to fix this, to fix whatever it was he had done, but the only clear thought that would come was that he couldn't lose her.

"Usak...Usa, tell me what I did," he pleaded with a voice that practically screamed with desperation. "Please, I...you have to let me make it right somehow."

"Make it right?" Her voice become more shrill and shaky with each word. "You come to my _birthday_ and claim you love me, and you want to know how you can make it-"

"I did what?" Mamoru interrupted, voice stricken with horror, and memories of her tear-stained face from the night before began to grow clearer. He could remember the feel of a mic in his hand, Motoki dragging him out, and Usagi's horrified face as he rambled on about how much he…

 _Oh, god._

How could he possibly fix this? Tell her it was a joke? That he didn't mean it? But those options failed as quickly as they came into his mind. He couldn't lie about loving her.

And that thought led to the gut-wrenching understanding that his worst fear had finally been realized. Mamoru had told Usagi he loved her, and she hated him for it.

She took in a ragged breath, her nose wrinkling up in annoyance at having her speech cut off so unceremoniously. "You...you jokingly told me you loved me last night. You were so drunk, I should have known you wouldn't even remember it," she said with a bitter laugh that sounded so, very wrong coming from her mouth.

His jumbled thoughts managed to make sense of some of what Usagi was saying, and he took a step closer to her. "Usa, I would _never_ joke about-"

"And the worst part is, you _know_ I've been in love with you since practically the beginning, and you did it anyway, and now _everything_ is ruined, Mamo-chan," she cried out the last part, finally unable to hold back her tears any longer.

Mamoru stood rooted in place for a brief moment, still trying to process all that had happened since Usagi had come crashing in to his apartment just a few minutes before. But when she wrapped her arms around herself, her sobs becoming broken and anguished, his instinct took over, and she was in his arms.

She curled into him, her head burying in his chest as he did his best to soothe her. But when she had calmed enough to realize where she was, so pushed away out of his arms, and turned her back to him.

"Mamo-chan, I can't do this."

He walked to her in just two, long strides, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. His heart beat wildly, but a feeling of relief was beginning to spread through him. "Yes, you can."

 _oOo_

"Ok, so, we'll do dinner here, at Mako-chan's restaurant, then drinks and dancing at the club Usagi loves, and _theeennn_ , off to Shibuya for Karaoke!"

Mamoru sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes. "No. Karaoke. Minako." He did his best to emphasize every word to drive his point home.

Makoto looked up from her busy hands, folding napkins in preparation for that evening's dinner rush. "Mina, _please_ stop trying to get a rise out of Mamoru."

Minako dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. "Ugh. Please. He's lucky to even be here after that fiasco he caused last year."

"Thank you for that completely unnecessary reminder, Minako," he deadpanned, annoyance radiating from every part of him. "But we're not doing Karaoke. You know that's not what she wants."

A smug expression made its way onto Minako's face. "It's not what _she_ wants, or it's not what _you_ want, Mamoru?"

He glared at her from across the table, and Makoto sighed, her hands pausing their task briefly once more. "Mina…" she said with the barest hint of threat behind her words.

Minako sat back in her chair, and folded her arms, pouting in a way that made her look eerily like Usagi. "You know, Mamoru, just because you're Usagi's live-in boyfriend, doesn't mean you get all the say in everything."

Mamoru couldn't help the smirk he sent her way, as he closed his laptop, and leaned over the table towards her just slightly. "Doesn't it though?"

The blonde scoffed at him as he gathered his things. Slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, he paused to say goodbye. "As pleasant as this has been, my live-in girlfriend is waiting for me to take her on her birthday shopping trip, so I'll see you all later."

And he left the restaurant, amused smile on his face, to the sound of Minako's completely inappropriate cat calls.

All in all, life was pretty decent when you've been in love with your girlfriend for seven years.

 _End_


End file.
